221B or Not 221B
by Sherlockian87
Summary: Molly and Sherlock have just returned from seeing the performance of Hamlet at The Barbican.


**I've had this idea rolling around in my brain ever since seeing Benedict perform in Hamlet.**

 **I wouldn't exactly say that there are spoilers in this, if you haven't seen the performance yet and you intend to.**

 **I do quote some of the lines from the play, but in all honesty, those can't be claimed as spoilers because ... come on, the play his hundreds of years old!**

 **Anyway ... this is a silly bit of smutty fluffiness.**

 **Hope you enjoy.**

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221B or Not 221B

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" _Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me_."

Molly's clear voice rang out as she climbed the stairs up to 221B. "I must say that that is probably one of my most favourite lines from Hamlet. It is so powerful."

Sherlock, who was walking behind her, gave a noncommittal sniff. They entered the flat and began to remove their coats, scarves and gloves.

"Thank you so much for taking me to see the play!" Molly said to him as he took her coat. "I enjoyed it immensely, and I think I'm going to have to bake Mycroft something extra special as a thank you for getting us the tickets. And the backstage passes! Eeee!" She toed off her shoes, before dancing a silly little jig as she strode towards the kitchen; Sherlock rolled his eyes as he followed her.

"You could have at least tried to restrain yourself when you met _him_ ," he spat out.

Molly turned around to face Sherlock. "Are you jealous?" She placed her hands upon her hips, a faint mocking smile upon her mouth. "Jealous of the fact that I became flustered in front of a celebrity?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he leaned against the table, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm as good as a celebrity. You don't get flustered around me." There was a faint hint of a pout at the end of his words.

Molly slowly stepped towards him. "If you would recall, which I know you can with perfect clarity, I used to get flustered around you all of the time. But I don't anymore, and that's because I've become comfortable around you; at ease. Tonight was entirely different. This was a man whom I have never met before, merely admired from afar. I never dreamt that I would meet him! Just seeing him perform on a stage before me was enough. I'll admit he's quite good looking, and a bit of a charmer ... but he holds nothing to you."

She was stood directly in front of Sherlock now. She tilted her head to the side and pressed a kiss to the spot below his jaw line. The very one that made his heart race. "You are everything to me, where he is nothing; just a handsome face with an admirable acting talent and a goofy sense of humour."

Sherlock let out a huff, making her to stem her ramblings, she giggled softly before she continued to kiss and nuzzle her way down his neck. He uncrossed his arms and placed his hands about her waist.

"Are you going to stay the night?" he asked her.

Molly ceased her nibbling at his skin and raised her head to look at him. "Do you want me to?"

He nodded, taking one of her hands in his. "I want you to."

She smiled slowly. "Then I'll stay." She placed a quick kiss upon his lips before stepping towards the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

Sherlock strode from the kitchen into the sitting room, tugging off his suit jacket. He grabbed up a small stack of envelopes that Mrs. Hudson had left on the coffee table. Molly followed Sherlock into the room, continuing to take swigs of water. Her eyes alighted upon the skull on the mantle.

"Have you ever recited the Yorick speech with Billy?" she asked, nodding her head in the direction of the skull.

Sherlock looked up at her and scoffed. "No. Of course not."

She shrugged. "Shame. You've missed a golden opportunity." She took one more final swig of water then recapped the bottle and tossed it into the bin in the kitchen.  
"I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted, so I'm going to go to bed," she said to him.

Sherlock made a hum of agreement; too busy glowering at a letter to give a verbal response. Molly padded down the hall and entered his bedroom, quickly changing into a pair of pyjamas before going into the loo to brush her teeth.

Just as she started Sherlock entered, having changed as well. He grabbed his toothbrush and stood beside her. When Molly suddenly giggled he side-eyed her questioningly.

"I was just thinking of that scene with Hamlet in his little fort. It was adorable. Made me think of when you play pirates with Annabella."

In spite of the toothbrush in his mouth, Sherlock smiled. "Yes. Thankfully the Watson sprog prefers pirates over princesses."

Molly rolled her eyes and finished brushing her teeth. She returned to the bedroom, pulling back the covers before slipping herself beneath them. By the time she was settled, Sherlock had entered the room. He switched off the lamp, engulfing them both momentarily in darkness before the glow from the streetlight outside became visible. He slid beneath the blanket and sheet, opening his arms out to her. Molly burrowed against him, snuggling into his chest. She loved it when he held her like this; it made her feel warm and safe.

Sherlock tilted them slightly so that he could nuzzle at her neck. She let out a happy hum, running her hand up and down his side. When she heard him murmuring she made a questioning sound. He raised his head, before settling down on the pillow so that they could look at each other.

" _Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love_ ," he recited softly to her.

Before she could say anything in answer, he kissed her. She let out another hum as the kiss deepened. He held her close, molding their bodies together. They parted a short time later, and she smiled at him.

"Favourite lines?" she questioned.

He nodded in affirmation.

"I knew you were a closet romantic!"

He humphed, but it wasn't very convincing, making Molly laugh.

"I always wished that Hamlet actually spoke those words. Mmmm, but hearing you saying them is so much better!" She kissed him.

Sherlock nudged her into her back, deepening the kiss as his hands slipped beneath her t-shirt. His thumbs brushed across the underside of her breasts and she moaned into his mouth.

There was a great flurry of movement as they undressed each other as quickly as they could. As soon as they were both naked, Sherlock's mouth was upon her; suckling and kissing her skin.

When he took the tender bud of her nipple between his lips, she let out a near feral cry as she clutched at the back of his head, her hands in his hair. He had brought her to orgasm once before, just with his mouth upon her breasts, but tonight he did want her to come until he was buried deep inside of her. He licked and gently nibbled at each of her breasts before traveling downwards.

The scent of her arousal washed over him, his cock twitching in anticipation. She was glistening, positively soaked. He spread her apart with his thumbs, drinking in the sight of her pearl that he knew was aching to be touched by him. He delved forward, taking her clit between his lips. Molly cried out joyfully, her back arching as he ravaged her with his mouth.

The moment that he knew she was close he pulled away from her. This time she let out a cry of disappointment. Her breasts were rising and falling with each deep breath that she took as she stared down at him, a questioning look in her eyes. He only smiled wolfishly in return, licking his lips clean of her juices.

"Not until I'm inside of you," he told her hoarsely as he moved up her body, allowing his cock to brush up against her.

A loan whine escaped her as he took a hold of her legs and lifted them up until her knees were pressed down into the mattress. She was now spread open, just for him.

He had placed both hands on either side of her shoulders, so that he didn't crush her but could still be close, her hardened nipples were brushing against his chest with every breath that she took.

With their eyes locked she slipped her hand down between them and grasped onto his shaft. He was aching now, so desperate to be sheathed by her velvet smooth warmth. She gave him a few teasing strokes, smiling as his breath stuttered, before allowing the tip of him to rub against her clit. She moaned softly, then settled him at her entrance before moving her hand away, placing it on his side before slipping downwards to cup his bum.

In one deft stroke he entered her fully. Molly sighed happily, as Sherlock groaned out her name against her neck. He gave a quick, solid thrust, groaning again, savouring her sweet tightness surrounding him. He did this several more times, a thrill running through his veins as her wild moans rang out, before he settled into a slow and steady rhythm of smooth thrusts.

Their bodies rocked together, moving in perfect unison. He cupped her breast in his hand, gently pinching her nipple as he entered her again and again. Molly's nails dug into his arse, and he knew that she wanted him to fuck her; good and hard.

Sherlock continued his slow thrusts as he released her breast and placed his hand on her ankle, moving it until it was lying upon the back of his neck. He did the same with her other ankle. She crossed them and he smiled at her, before kissing her deeply. He moved his hands to her hips and held onto her as he began to thrust as hard as he could. She moaned into his mouth, his pelvis pressing directly against her clit.

"That's it Molly, come for me," he breathed against her lips.

She moaned again then cried out as her back arched, her nails leaving behind crescent moon shapes in his skin. He continued to thrust as her walls tightened and convulsed around him.

"So good, so good, you feel so good!" she whimpered.

With one final snap of his hips against hers he came, his cock pulsing inside of her. He panted into her neck, as he struggled to keep control of his mental faculties. All he wanted to do was collapse against her, his body feeling deliciously boneless, but he knew that he could possibly hurt her by doing so. Forcing himself to concentrate he reached up and took a hold of her ankles, easing her legs down. When he felt her hands cupping his face, he opened his eyes and looked at her, she was smiling at him.

They kissed as she gently maneuvered them onto their sides, her leg hooked over his hip. Sherlock let out a breath, pressing his forehead between her breasts, making Molly giggle. He draped his arm around her, pulling her close.

He gave each breast a tender nuzzle before raising his head to look at her. She smoothed back his damp curls from his forehead before pressing her lips gently to his. They kissed and cuddled for several minutes as they recovered their breath.

Afterwards they cleaned themselves up before returning to bed. Molly fell asleep quickly, curled into Sherlock's embrace. She slept for around an hour, until suddenly she woke. She blindly reached out for Sherlock, but found his side of the bed empty. After wiping at her eyes she sat up and softly called his name. When she didn't receive an answer she got up from the bed and pulled on a nearby dressing gown.

As she stepped out into the hall she could just make out the muffled sounds of someone speaking. She wrapped her arms about her middle, hugging herself; it was chilly in the flat. One lamp was lit in the sitting room, and Sherlock was stood before the fireplace, wearing a dressing gown. He had Billy the skull in his hand and was holding it at arms length, looking it over, softly muttering, before suddenly in a clear tone, his voice rang out:

 _"Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing."_

Molly had fully stepped into the room now. " _What's that, my lord?_ " she asked.

Sherlock lowered the skull and turned to look at her. "Satisfied?" he questioned, placing Billy in his place on the mantel.

She chuckled softly and nodded her head. She moved to reach for him but he stepped back.

"Don't. Let me wash my hands first." He walked around her, and entered the kitchen.

Molly stood in the doorway, watching him as he dried his hands and turned about to face her. "Are you coming back to bed my lord?" she asked.

He smirked. "Hmmm ... I think I like the sound of that."

"The coming back to bed ... or the title?" she enquired.

His smirk formed into a cheeky grin. "Both!"

Before she had a chance to move he pounced upon her and swept her up into his arms. Molly's laugh rang out as he carried her back to the bedroom.

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 **Like it? Hope so!**

 **Be sure to leave a review :)**

 **And don't forget I'm on tumblr as sherlockian87 !**


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